


I Can Tell You Taste Like the Sky

by misslucyjane



Series: Sinnerman [4]
Category: Constantine (TV), Lucifer (TV)
Genre: 50 reasons to have sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bisexual John Constantine, Bisexual Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Blow Jobs, Caretaking, Crossover Pairings, Established Relationship, Foreshadowing, John Constantine Needs A Hug, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Outdoor Sex, Past Relationship(s), Porn with Feelings, Rain Sex, Soft Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), canon mashup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:07:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26299132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misslucyjane/pseuds/misslucyjane
Summary: "As much as I appreciate your work as a punisher of evil, you're right. Rain's better."
Relationships: John Constantine/Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)
Series: Sinnerman [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1894249
Comments: 18
Kudos: 123
Collections: 50 reasons to have sex





	I Can Tell You Taste Like the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> I have a plotty long fic planned for these two, and I've been kind of thinking these PWPs would eventually built up to that fic. (An important word, that: _eventually_.) However, for my last few attempts at a PWP, when I sat down to write I kept going off on tangents about _feelings_ and _relationships_ and _baggage_ and all sorts of things I didn't plan on dealing with yet.
> 
> All of which is to say, this went places I didn't mean to go, and I decided to let it.

A strange sound wakes him. John tenses in the dark as he tries to place it. Lucifer's penthouse is one of the safest places in the world, at least for John, but you never know when one of Lucifer's old demon acquaintances, or even one of his angelic ones, will pop in to demand Lucifer's attention. 

This sound is not angelic, demonic, nor human. It's not threatening -- John would even call it soothing, like the sound of Lucifer breathing steadily beside him. Lux closed hours ago, so it's not the thump of bass that sometimes penetrates the penthouse. No, this sound is soft and sporadic, like rain tapping on a window pane--

John has a laugh at himself as he searches for cigarettes and a lighter. Clearly, he's been in Los Angeles too long if he doesn't recognize the sound of rainfall.

Not bothering with a robe or even his pants -- they're in a tangle with Lucifer's clothes on the floor, not worth the bother -- John takes the pack of cigarettes and lighter to the balcony. The furniture is set back far enough that they won't get rained on. John pushes the planters out to the edge of the balcony so they can be watered, and then lounges on one of the chaises to smoke. 

John would never call Los Angeles beautiful, but it's all right when it's peaceful like this, everything muted and soft from the lights of the city to the iron-grey sky. The tops of the brown and yellow mountains in the distance are hidden by clouds. They might even turn green for a while, if the rain keeps up long enough. 

He's finished his first cigarette and started his second when the glass doors slide open and out toddles Lucifer, bearing his duvet. "What are you doing, sitting out here in the damp?" he scolds gently as he lays the duvet over John, and then curls around John from behind, his warm arms and legs enveloping John like a second blanket.

John leans back against Lucifer's chest, and doesn't even protest when Lucifer takes his cigarette and has a drag. "I'm enjoying the rain."

Lucifer gives a warm chuckle. "You can take the boy out of England but you can't take the England out of the boy."

John smiles to himself. "Never tried, Luce." 

"I wouldn't have you any other way." He scrubs his fingers through John's hair.

Contented with this response, John takes the cigarette to have a drag before giving it back. He hums a song about all the umbrellas in London with his eyes closed as Lucifer smokes and strokes his hair, and the rain continues to patter against the stone walls. 

Having smoked it down to the filter, Lucifer puts the cigarette butt in the nearest ashtray, and then wraps his arms around John and rests his chin on the top of John's head. "Why have you never gone back to England?"

"Too much to do here." He feels a little guilty as he says it -- he's been kipping with Lucifer more than he's been chasing down demons lately. Being with Lucifer has that effect on him -- it's so easy to forget his duties and instead bask in Lucifer's attention, his playfulness, his adoration of John's body. 

"Sometimes I miss London," Lucifer muses. "The fog, the rain, the mystery of it. Such an old city. Such ancient bones."

"Old cities have their own evils," says John. "London alone has goblins, boggarts, black dogs, revenants, vampires, Spring-Heeled Jack, ghosts dating back to before the Romans, the Fair Folk -- and those are just the creatures we know about."

Lucifer nudges him. "Of course you focus on the evils."

"They're what I see first, everywhere I go. New cities have their own evils, just not always of the demonic kind."

"Hm," in confirmation. "There's enough human evil here to keep me busy for millennia."

John sighs at the melancholy in Lucifer's voice, and reaches back to rub Lucifer's neck. "If you want me to help you with human evil, just say the word. I've done my share of detective work."

"Perhaps I will." He kisses the top of John's head. "They'll be punished in their time. At this moment, I'd rather enjoy this delightful rainstorm."

"Hm. As much as I appreciate your work as a punisher of evil, you're right. Rain's better."

"I'm always right."

"Always." John chuckles and continues to rub the back of Lucifer's neck, until he feels Lucifer's head droop and soft sounds of contentment purr through him. John knows Lucifer has had sex in every possible permutation and position, but John also knows Lucifer rarely lets people be tender with him like this. It's a privilege, even more so than being in Lucifer's bed.

It makes John want to be tender with him even more. 

He pushes his fingers deeper into Lucifer's hair. "Does the damp bother you?"

"No," Lucifer replies, his voice low. "I like it."

"Good," says John, "good," and he turns in Lucifer's arms. Kneeling between Lucifer's thighs, he takes hold of Lucifer's face and kisses him, deep and sweet. _Like lovers do,_ he thinks, and chuckles against Lucifer's mouth. 

Lucifer doesn't ask what's the joke -- maybe he already knows. He wraps his arms tight around John's hips and pulls him close. All the better to kiss him, which John does, still on his knees. Lucifer strokes his back, kisses his face and sucks on his neck, while John rakes his hands through Lucifer's hair and kisses his face and mouth. The air is cool against their skins, but it's warm under the blanket, warm where they touch. 

"Did you bring me out here to seduce me, John?" Lucifer whispers, pulling back just enough to speak.

"I've no need to seduce you," John replies. "You came of your own volition. Here, turn 'round."

Smiling enough to crinkle the corners of his eyes, Lucifer turns so his back rests against the slope of the chaise lounge. Even in the grey, rainy light, John can see Lucifer's face, his intense dark beauty. 

John runs his thumb over Lucifer's lips, and Lucifer blinks slowly in return, as relaxed as a great cat sunning itself on a rock. Straddling his hips, John stoops to kiss him, and leaves his hand cradling Lucifer's face as he kisses and sucks Lucifer's neck and chest. 

It gets breathy gasps from Lucifer, small moans, shifting legs. It's hard not to feel smug about this bit, knowing he can render one of the most powerful beings in existence into a hungry, eager lover. 

He continues to make his way down Lucifer's body, tasting and kissing his smooth skin. He has one goal -- to suck that glorious cock jutting between Lucifer's thighs until Lucifer is reduced to incoherency -- and nothing is going to keep him from it. 

Nothing, apparently, but Lucifer's hands catching him by the shoulders as he's about to descend between Lucifer's legs. John looks up, scowling, while Lucifer smiles wickedly in return. 

"Anticipation is nine-tenths of pleasure."

"You're a terrible tease." John captures Lucifer's legs by the ankles and pushes them up, causing Lucifer's legs to sprawl wide open. "By which I mean you're terrible at teasing. Never do it again." 

Lucifer laughs out loud and raises his ankles to rest his feet on John's shoulders. "Yes, dear."

"For fuck's sake, don't call me that." Enough talk. Lucifer's cock is there in all its glory, and John licks his lips, eager for its weight on his tongue. "Can I blow you now, please?"

Lucifer shivers as he gazes at John's face. He breathes, "Yes. I'm ready."

_You're so ready_ , John agrees silently, and holds Lucifer's thighs as he slides Lucifer's cock between his lips. Lucifer knots his fingers in John's hair. He makes quiet, steady sounds of pleasure, and he meets John's eyes when John looks up at him. His mouth curves in a faint smile. 

As good as it is to know Lucifer is enjoying himself, John wants more from him. He wants Lucifer to writhe, to beg, to come undone. 

He pulls off Lucifer's cock and spits on his fingers. Lucifer's faintly questioning sound changes to a gasp when John pushes his first two fingers into Lucifer's hole, and John can't help but smile as he sucks the head of Lucifer's cock. Lucifer's hips arch and he cries out, and his grip tightens on John's hair.

It's so satisfying to watch Lucifer's face as John opens him with his fingers and sucks that amazing cock. Lucifer's eyelashes flutter. The muscles in his throat jump. His lips are bitten red, and the sounds he makes, oh, the _sounds_ , they're better than porn. 

Lucifer holds John by his hair, and John takes him deeper into his throat. The muscles in Lucifer's thighs are clenched tight. His chest heaves, and his head tosses against the chaise's leather upholstery. John closes his eyes and strokes Lucifer's cock with his tongue, and Lucifer _groans_ , his hips rising as he clutches the back of the chaise and he releases into John's mouth.

That's another thing John likes about sex with Lucifer -- his come tastes better than anyone's, more like honey than salt. 

"Mm, John," Lucifer murmurs when he's regained his breath. "You're so good at that."

"I learned from the best." He grins at Lucifer and nibbles his inner thigh. Lucifer chuckles deeply, idly stroking his chest. 

"Come on, give it to me. Unless you'd rather wait a few minutes for me to be ready for another go."

"Oh, _give it_ to you," John teases. "Hopeless romantic, you are."

"I'd give you hearts and flowers if I thought you wouldn't mock me mercilessly for it." He opens his legs wide and gives his cock a lazy stroke. "You're more the straight-forward type."

John kisses him, arms wrapped around Lucifer's neck, so he can lazily rub his cock in the groove of Lucifer's hip. "You're right about that, but even us straight-forward types like a little romance now and then."

"Romance, John? Hmm..." He holds John loosely and rocks his hips. "What do you consider romantic?"

John rocks with him, too embarrassed that he brought it up at all to talk about it any further. "Not now. Right now I need to fuck you."

Lucifer laughs deep in his chest and tugs on John's arse. "Yes, you do. I'm ready."

John spits on his fingers and uses his saliva to make his cock slick. "I wish we could use rainwater," he admits. 

"We could," Lucifer says, and then places his hand on the small of John's back. "Let's move."

John tilts his head. "Are you serious? Out in the rain?"

"I'm completely serious. Instead of a cold, wet alley in London I offer you my balcony in Los Angeles, complete with warm rain." He spreads his arms wide, as if he means to embrace the entire city.

"Mad, you are," John says, but he can't deny he's into it. Neither of them are particularly nostalgic -- Lucifer because he lives in the moment, John because the past is too painful to remember and too visceral to forget -- but it's like Lucifer wants to give John a new memory, to ease the old one. 

Oh yes, John's into it.

They leave the chaise lounge and kneels on the paving stones. Lucifer holds John by the chin to kiss him. It makes John shake all over, this simple, unabashed desire, and he lowers Lucifer to his back as they kiss.

"Don't make me wait," Lucifer says when John lifts his mouth. The rainfall is warm, as Lucifer promised, but still John shivers. He stays on his knees a moment, his head tipped back, letting raindrops bathe him from head to foot. He licks rainwater from his lips and looks up at the sky, then down at Lucifer, who tugs on his arms, impatient. John kisses him again, and lays Lucifer's thighs on his to cant Lucifer's hips upward. 

"Ready?" 

"Beyond ready. Fuck me in the rain, John."

"Anything you want, Luce." John presses into him, slow and careful until he breaches the ring of muscle and they both gasp. Lucifer's hands squeeze John's biceps. 

"That's good," Lucifer breathes. He wraps his legs around John's hips. "That's good, keep going."

"Not sure I could stop," John confesses, but slows his progress, trying to keep some self-control so he's not mindlessly rutting no matter how much his body wants to. 

Lucifer pushes up his hips with a grunt. "I said _keep going_ , John."

John brings himself to a complete stop, and rests his head on Lucifer's chest. He smiles when Lucifer groans, "John, you're killing me."

"No, I'm not, I'm--" He bites his lip to keep the words from tumbling out. "I'm pleasing you," he amends, and rolls his hips, slow and deep, making Lucifer shudder and his fingers dig into John's back. 

"Fine, yes. You're pleasing me. You always please me. Don't stop, keep going, please me by not stopping, John, _please me_."

John lifts his head and gazes into Lucifer's face. His eyes are wide open and bright. Raindrops cling to his eyelashes and course down his cheeks. He's always otherworldly and beautiful but like this, wet and glistening in the rain and dim light, he's ethereal. 

John winds his arms around Lucifer's head and kisses his mouth. He licks the raindrops from Lucifer's face. Lucifer combs his fingers through John's wet hair, traces the path of raindrops on John's back. Their bodies move together, languid, punctuated by quiet gasps, moans of each other's names. 

Of all the places they've had sex, this is probably the most ridiculous -- but John suspects it's also going to be one of his favorites. The rainwater tastes sweet when he licks it from Lucifer's skin. The cool air is soothing on his back. Even the way water drips from his hair and down his face is so intimate John can't stop trembling.

Lucifer pushes his hips to grind his cock against John's stomach. John grins against his mouth and reaches between them to stroke him. He's hard again, because of course he is, but that just gives John the pleasure of once more making him come.

"Someday, Morningstar," John says in a tight voice, "I'm going to make you come absolutely undone."

"Not far off now," Lucifer says, his own voice trembling, and the sound of Lucifer so human and needy makes John's own body tremble. His heart is galloping. He presses his toes against the stones and pushes faster, deeper, as he kisses Lucifer, too eager to be graceful.

The need to come coils like electricity under John's skin. He wants to keep going, he wants to fall apart. He's dimly aware that Lucifer is moaning, "John, John," as his feet drum on the stones, and then Lucifer is weak in his arms and there's hot wetness between them.

John shouts as his body lets go. Lucifer moves with him and kisses John's mouth. He wraps his arms around John and kisses his hair, strokes his back, as John rests his weight on Lucifer and gulps in air. 

He comes back to himself enough to say, his voice hoarse, "All right, Luce?"

"All right, Johnny," Lucifer says, his tone warm. 

\----

John coughs. He sits up and coughs more, and rubs his hand through his wet hair. 

Lucifer touches his back. "We need to get you inside."

"Right." John coughs more and scowls at Lucifer's concerned face. "I'm _fine,_ Morningstar."

"Of course you are, Constantine." He goes inside the penthouse, picking up the duvet as he passes the outdoor furniture. John thinks he could stay out on the balcony enough for another cigarette, but then he coughs enough to bend him double. Once he can breathe again, he follows Lucifer inside.

Lucifer has returned the duvet to the bed. John can hear water pounding in the bathtub, and crosses his arms as he watches Lucifer pour coffee into the French press. "You're running a hot bath for me."

"I seem to recall that helps humans feel better." He gestures to the coffee pot. "As does a warm drink. Go take a bath, John. I'll join you in a minute."

"All right." With a sigh, John grabs the cigarettes and goes into the bathroom. 

Like the bed, the tub is big enough for a few friends. Lucifer has also added bubble bath, because of course he has, and John sits on the edge and dabbles his fingers in the foam before slipping into the water. 

Lucifer's right: it does make him feel better, warms him to the core in an instant. John lights a cigarette, and leans back after a deep inhale.

Then he has to sit up again to cough, and leans his forehead against his hand as he catches his breath. He hears Lucifer come into the room, and says, without opening his eyes, "Before you ask, I'm fine. I'll be fine. Just out in the wet too long."

"Of course you'll be fine," Lucifer says and slips into the tub behind John. John leans against him and lets himself relax completely into Lucifer's embrace. "I forbid you from getting sick," Lucifer says in a softer voice, and kisses John's neck. 

"I can and shall obey," John murmurs. He has a drag on his cigarette, then exhales, trying to keep the smoke out of Lucifer's face. "Ta for this. I feel much better."

"I'm glad." He takes the cigarette and smokes it down to the filter. John knocks his head gently against Lucifer's jaw to scold him for not sharing. "I've had sex outdoors more often than I've had it indoors, but never quite like that." 

John would kill for a cigarette right now, just for something to do with his hands. He mumbles, "Almost romantic, like."

"Almost," Lucifer says, dry. He rubs John's ear. When he speaks, it's slow and soft. "I've been glad to have to have you here. I like seeing you every day. Not just because of the sex, we've always had good sex even when we hated each other, but I like to be reminded of how much I like you. I like to be reminded there's nobody else like you, John Constantine."

"Ta," John whispers. He takes Lucifer's hand and kisses a fingertip, and rubs it along his lips. "I like being here too. I don't want to go."

Lucifer noses John's hair. "Next you're going to say, 'But I have to leave, Lucifer.'"

"I have to leave, Lucifer." He smiles wryly to himself. "I didn't recognize the rainfall, Luce. I've been in Los Angeles long enough to forget the sound of rain."

"We live in the desert," Lucifer reminds him. "Everybody forgets the sound of rain."

"Whatever it says to everyone else, it's telling me to get back to work."

Lucifer rumbles unhappily in his chest. "You could ... come here. Stay here. Make the penthouse a base for you and all those magical tchotchkes."

John Constantine would deny he's blushed since his first kiss, but his face feels oddly warm. "In your presence, all those magical tchotchkes would go off like tossing a match into a fireworks factory."

Lucifer chuckles. "Wouldn't that be _fun_."

"It would invite madness to what is already a very mad city." He finds Lucifer's knee under the water, and cups it in his palm. He says slowly, "I don't want to bring evil to you."

"John, if there's anything I can handle, it's evil."

"That's not what I mean." 

"Then explain."

"I--" He starts to coughs, and has to move out of Lucifer's embrace, grasping the sides of the tub to support himself as he heaves for air. Lucifer tries to pat his back, but John waves him off. "I'm not choking," he gasps.

"You can't leave if you're sick." Lucifer looks entirely too pleased. "You'll have to stay a few more days, at least."

"And you'll feed me chicken soup and hold my hand?" John gathers a double handful of water and splashes it on his face. 

"Is that how it works?" Lucifer says. "You won't be sick anymore if I feed you chicken soup?" He soaks a washcloth in the hot water and rubs it over John's back. 

"No, that's not how it works." He sighs. Lucifer is strangely adverse to nuance sometimes. John suspects he's just from a less ironic age. "I don't expect you to look after me."

Lucifer goes on rubbing his back. "What about the last few weeks has suggested that I dislike looking after you?"

John leans forward, resting his arms on his knees. The hot water around him and running down his back is helping him breathe easier -- Lucifer has the right idea about that. "Nothing," he admits. "You've been ... sweet."

"Sweet," Lucifer mutters and kisses John's back. "I'm glad you noticed." 

"I have. And it's..." He exhales, and rests his face on his arms. Lucifer rests his head on John's back. "I... I care about you. I like when you care back."

"But," Lucifer says. "There's always a 'but' with you."

"But," says John, "if I stay, if I make this city my home, if we live together -- how long until we're tearing each other apart, just like we did before?"

Lucifer runs his lips along John's shoulder. "This is not a subject to discuss in the bath." He stands, water and lather sliding down his body. "Meet me in bed when you're ready." He gets out to the tub.

No argument there. John soaks for a while longer, then scrubs himself all over quickly and gets out. He dries himself with the thick towel Lucifer had laid on the warming rack, then takes the few steps to the bed and falls onto it, letting the towel fall onto the floor. 

Lucifer returns with coffee. He crawls into the bed and works the duvet from underneath him. John eyes him, but gets beneath the bedding and lies on his side, his head pillowed on his arm. Lucifer mirrors him, and they gaze at each other. 

The world is waking up below the penthouse. John supposes the staff of Lux will be arriving soon, to prepare the kitchen for the lunchtime crowd. But there's stillness here, for now.

"All right," John says. "Let's discuss." This is one time, he thinks, he won't be able to distract Lucifer with more sex.

Lucifer says, "We could try _not_ to tear each other apart. You like me, I like you -- millions of humans have made it work with less."

"The Devil and a mage, however reluctantly, on the side of the angels," John says. "We're doomed no matter what our intentions, Morningstar."

"There's no fate but the one we make." Lucifer taps John's chest for emphasis. "I _fell_ to prove this."

"I know," John says. "I understand. I also believed a mad angel when he said I had a chance at salvation, so my fate may be a little less of a mystery than most people's."

"You're going to argue with the King of Hell about whether you're damned?" Lucifer says mildly. "Really, John? And people tell _me_ I'm arrogant."

"Lucifer--"

"John, look at me." He sits upright, cross-legged.

John sits up too, and looks at him. "All right, I'm looking."

"Tell me what you see."

"I see you," John says.

"You know I don't mean just with your eyes. Tell me what you _see_."

John crosses his arms and studies him. Dark eyes, thick lashes, straight nose, strong chin. Thick hair that's gone curly from the wet, dark stubble dotting his jaw. 

There are so many things he could say -- how Lucifer looked in the rain, the things John always thinks when he looks at him. He's astonishing. He's perfect. He's more than John dreamed of in a lover. 

He leans closer, though, to _really_ give Lucifer a good look. Lucifer leans closer, too, a faint smile on his lips.

There's nothing off or wrong about him. No shimmer of a glamour spell. No darkness or malice lurking behind his eyes. Lucifer simply _is_ \-- a being who loves music and pleasure and fun, who does what he likes because he likes it, and who could have anyone in the world but chooses John Constantine.

John says simply, "I see the most beautiful man to ever be."

Lucifer smiles and kisses him. "I let my guard down and you still saw me as an angel. You'd see me as something terrifying if you were a damned soul. You're not damned, John, at least not by me. Despite your fears, your fate is under your control."

John lowers his head, his throat stinging. "Thanks, mate," he says thickly, and closes his eyes when Lucifer kisses his head.

"Stay a few more days." Lucifer lays his hand on the back of John's neck. "Just until that cough clears up. Then leave when you must, and come back to me when you can." 

John nods, then kisses Lucifer, hard. The odds are high that they will only end in disaster once again -- but hell, he's a gambling man. 

When Lucifer pulls away he turns to the night table and picks up the mugs of coffee. He has a sip from one. "Mm, still hot." He gives the other to John, and then gets comfortable against the pillows, on his side, with another sip and a kiss.

"Ta," John says and has a sip too.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by 50 reasons to have sex #11: it's raining.
> 
> \----
> 
> Songs:  
> All the Umbrellas In London, the Magnetic Fields  
> Blue Monday, New Order
> 
> Title from "You Look Like Rain" by Morphine
> 
> \----
> 
> Edited to add: I'm writing the long plotty fic for Nanowrimo! I'd love some prompts, either for sex or for other situations you'd like to see the boys in. Please leave a prompt in the comments!


End file.
